


An Interesting Premise

by eirtae



Series: Obnoxiously Sexually Active Darksiders [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Begging, Bondage, Breath Control, Bruising, Consentacles, Exhibitionism, F/F, Femslash, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Kinktober, Lesbians, Lesbians in Space, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Multiple Penetration, NO choking, NO oral penetration, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, S/M, Suspension, Tentacle Sex, The Dark Side of the Force, Vaginal Penetration, Xenophilia, anal penetration, darksiders who aren’t sith, sexy telepathy, simulated cunnilingus, tentacles with personality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-18 23:15:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16128716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eirtae/pseuds/eirtae
Summary: “And what would a dark side construct be testing by giving you a good fuck?” asked Skida, closing her notebook and lowering it down to the altar, perfectly willing to humor Astrid’s line of thought.“Openness to the will of the dark side in all its forms?” offered Astrid, warming to her subject. “Humility in the face of power? A trade of vulnerability for knowledge?” she paused, glancing at the nearby tentacles. “... Endurance?”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was an undertaking. The final document I wrote in was created July 9, 2017 (I intended to upload it for kinktober 2017), but it was conceived of before then. Every few months I’d write another few hundred words, slowly but surely ramping up the absurdity of the entire paper thin premise. I’ll keep writing smut fic after this, of course - but this might just be my smut fic magnum opus.
> 
> Almost 5000 words of sex in chapter two. I know you'll probably only read the intro once. ;)
> 
> Beta read as always by my lovely wife Polkera!

The cave was _watching_.

Which wasn’t to say that other places heavy in the dark side didn’t observe their passing - they did, coldly aware in a way she’d never found the light side of the Force to be - but there was a difference between being observed and being _watched_. It itched at her as they moved further in, and Astrid found herself catching shadows out of the corners of her eyes, trying to follow movements that she half believed she’d imagined.

“It comes and goes,” said Skida when Astrid turned sharply to follow a movement. She sounded completely unconcerned. “I’ve felt it before, here.”

“An animal?” asked Astrid, her Basic accent thickly rounding out the words. They spoke in Sith most of the time these days - Astrid insisted, despite the fact that the language was dead. There was something almost disrespectful about knowing how to read and write a language, but not being able to speak it.

“A construct,” corrected Skida, glancing back at the human as she drew one lek over her shoulder to her front. The Twi’lek spoke the language just as well as any holocron they’d opened. “Something between an animal and a machine,” she continued, looking up and around at the decorated walls with mild admiration. “The Arlean were primitive, but clever. I’ve never seen someone else make a creature quite like this one. A shame they were snuffed out by the Jedi before they could be uplifted into the Galaxy.”

“What’s it for?” asked Astrid as they continued to move forward through the narrowing tunnel. Something reached out and touched her ankle, gone almost before she could react - she chose to ignore it.

“It protects some form of knowledge,” was Skida’s answer.

“But you’ve got no idea what kind,” pressed Astrid. “Interesting.”

“You’re a fresh mind,” said Skida, unconcerned by the taunt and throwing a mildly stated challenge back with a smile. “Perhaps you’ll see something I haven’t.”

“Perhaps,” repeated Astrid, trying to disregard the _watching_ , eyes taking in the unfamiliar script on the walls of the tunnel more closely in the light of Skida’s lamp. Spending time learning about cultures that had never made it to the civilization above the sky was infinitely frustrating. There were no vaguely familiar characters, no hints in the grammar to lend partial understanding. The closer to entering the wider galaxy a species got, the fewer illustrations there were to lean on.

If the Jedi from several thousand or more years ago had decided to pre-emptively crush the Arlean, they had to have been close. Astrid hissed between her teeth as the script became older, squarer, more worn away by the passage of time - and still no drawings.

For a second time the creature that _watched_ brushed against her, a cool, damp breeze against the back of her left hand, an exploratory touch against her wrist just underneath the sleeve of her coat. This time Astrid didn’t ignore it, her reflexes fast enough that her fingers clamped down on the thing for long enough that she could get a good look at it.

A dark grey tentacle, cool and soft, writhing and twisting to escape. She lost her grip on it not because it was strong enough to fight away, but because it was coated in slime. Astrid let it go instead of pulling it back with the Force, watching it withdraw fearfully back into the dark above.

“What makes you think it’s protecting anything?” asked Astrid, the question partly sincere and partly spiteful as she shook away the better part of the slime and then held her hand up to inspect it.

“Other places on this planet have constructs which protect secrets,” replied Skida, who hadn’t stopped walking. “People are predictable. It seems unlikely that this cave would be different.”

“Did they all ooze?” asked Astrid, her focus on the slide of her thumb against her fingers both fascinated and disgusted.

“Some of them,” laughed Skida. “Though they weren’t complex enough to be capable of caution or interest.”

Astrid glanced up at the darkness above with annoyance, wiping her hand on her coat as she began striding to catch up with Skida.

The end of the tunnel was both grand in its stature and underwhelming in its familiarity. The cave widened out until the walls were as difficult to see in the darkness as the top of the tunnel was, the center of the cave a platform that was edged by the script that lined the walls of the tunnel. At the middle of the platform - as in so many of these kinds of places - was an altar, and from it a star-shaped pattern of twisting curves spread on the floor.

Skida walked the edge of the platform, looking down into the darkness with interest, the light she held casting yellow reflections off her patina stained jewellery, doing more to accentuate the sway of her blue-green lekku than it did to illuminate the darkness below. Astrid watched her more than she took in her surroundings as she wandered towards the altar, momentarily distracted by a tentacle that boldly lay itself over her shoulder. She brushed it off with irritation, noting that it didn’t dare harass Skida.

Then Astrid began to pull hover lamps out of the bag slung over her shoulder one handed, flicking the switch to light them and tossing them carelessly into the air. With her other hand she ran her fingers across the altar, her eyes narrowed as she studied the engraved inscriptions in the growing, flickering light. Still no illustrations, although the characters were more repetitious. Something like grammar, maybe.

“You’ve really never translated any of this?” asked Astrid as she tossed the last hover lamp into the air and batted away _yet another tentacle_ before it could sneak down the back of her neck. The altar’s top was curved slightly inwards, presumably from repeated use as a place to rest bodies. The legs were hollowed out and carved through in curved imitation of the tentacles; it matched the curved pattern on the floor. The only two pieces of artwork, and they were of the most obvious and annoying thing in the place.

“I haven’t had someone with quite your skill with me in a very long time,” replied Skida from behind her and across the platform, her voice faintly echoing off the unseen walls. “I’ve only been to this place twice.”

Astrid’s lip curled as she gently rapped her knuckles on the altar, conflicted between appreciation of the compliment and fierce resentment at the reminder that Skida had ever travelled with other companions. A tentacle curled its way up the latticed leg of the altar toward her hand, aimed at her wrist beneath her coat. She grabbed hold of it, this time digging her nails in so that when it squirmed it couldn’t escape, something black that must be blood welling up from under the tips of her fingers.

As though to deliberately antagonize her, Skida continued the line of thought. “The young woman I was here with was talented, but often intimidated,” she said lightly, and when Astrid turned to look at her, the Twi’lek was regarding the darkness above them.

“What, of that?” asked Astrid, eyebrows raised in disbelief as she gestured up with her free hand, the other still occupied with twisting nails into the struggling tentacle. She absently kicked away a second tentacle that had approached from a different angle, its tip exploring just inside the upper edge of her boot and its suckers trying to latch onto her toe. “It’s not exactly hostile.”

“It was as persistent with her as it is with you,” replied Skida as she made her way to Astrid and took her notebook out of the bag she carried, standing on the other side of the altar. “She also had misgivings about my intentions. These sorts of places do tend to require sacrifices.”

“I hope you killed her,” said Astrid, trying not to bare her teeth, her eyes yellowed from the dark side’s presence and lit with jealous expectation, her nails digging further into the tentacle. “For being a coward who was wrong.”

“I killed her for unrelated reasons,” confirmed Skida, expression indulgent and faintly flattered by the jealousy. “Though I am not certain she was wrong about the construct needing a sacrifice.”

“Why?” asked Astrid. The tentacle she held was now struggling frantically against her grip. Her jealousy mildly assuaged, Astrid let it go, careful not to scrape it further with her nails. It fled back down below the altar, leaving droplets of blood in its wake. “Did the other constructs need sacrifices?”

“Two,” replied Skida, her focus now on skimming her notes from the last time she was here. The construct was still leaving Skida well alone, like it could sense the power and skill she held. “The others I destroyed.”

Astrid eyed the pair of tentacles that had fallen down at her side, hovering just out of her reach. “Maybe it just wants a good fuck,” she muttered to herself, scraping the slime off her hand on the altar’s rounded edge.

“An interesting premise,” said Skida, looking up from her notes with a smile and a quirked eyebrow.

“You know…” said Astrid thoughtfully, looking out at walls she couldn’t see despite the added hover lights and thumbing the edge of the altar where she’d left slime. “It could be a test.”

“And what would a dark side construct be testing by giving you a good fuck?” asked Skida, closing her notebook and lowering it down to the altar, perfectly willing to humor Astrid’s line of thought.

“Openness to the will of the dark side in all its forms?” offered Astrid, warming to her subject. “Humility in the face of power? A trade of vulnerability for knowledge?” she paused, glancing at the nearby tentacles. “... Endurance?”

Skida let out a peal of laughter at the last suggestion. “A novel idea,” she said, dismissing the conversation by lifting her notebook and turning away from the altar.

Astrid looked down at the altar, where her blood covered fingers had left smears on the stone, now willing to let the tentacle that reached out suction itself to the back of her hand. After a moment of thoughtful observation, Astrid carefully peeled it away, the suckers leaving round marks over her patterned scars, warm bruises under her brown skin.

Astrid looked over her shoulder at Skida, running her tongue thoughtfully against the tip of one of her canines. Then she began to shrug off her long coat, striding across the platform toward the tunnel entrance. There was, in fact, a way to prove that she was right - and to one up the dead woman.

“Oh, Lady Aalto,” came Skida’s voice from across the platform, tone filled with incredulous delight.

Astrid threw her a cocky grin as she folded her coat so that the inside wouldn’t touch the ground, setting it carefully just outside the ring of characters in the hall. Astrid didn’t bother making a show of stripping herself down, the hair on the back of her neck immediately rising in the cool air.

By the time Astrid topped the neatly folded pile with her saber, the hair on her arms was also raised, her nipples hard in the cold. With a deep breath to prevent a shiver, Astrid stood and turned to face Skida, who hadn’t moved from where she stood at the opposite edge of the platform. The Twi’lek didn’t speak, a smile playing across her lips and red eyes glittering with heated anticipation.

Astrid ran a hand through her short locs and stretched for Skida’s benefit as she walked to the altar, firmly choosing to ignore that the tentacles had disappeared as she removed her clothes. 

She sat on the smooth stone altar without fanfare, one leg hanging off the side and the other foot on the altar, her elbow on her knee, a confident posture that made her intent _very_ clear. The monster - the construct, according to Skida - was once again _watching_ , and Astrid tried to watch back, looking up at the darkness, around at walls she couldn’t see.

“I’m here,” Astrid called out expectantly.

Nothing. Astrid avoided looking at Skida.

“I’m not going to hurt you this time,” she added, irritation already colouring her tone. Having to wait for _anything_ made her teeth itch, and she shoved impatiently out into the Force.


	2. Chapter 2

Her shove seemed to push the construct into action, a tentacle reaching out from under the altar to brush against her ankle, following the pattern from when she first felt it watching. She forced down her instinct to jump - the first time there had been several layers of clothing between the cool tentacle and her skin - allowing it to wrap itself around her ankle.

Another reached out from somewhere behind her, hesitantly touching the back of her left hand. Astrid rolled her eyes at the caution, hissing between her teeth in annoyance.

It suctioned itself there, another tentacle coming to wrap around the arm Astrid had resting on her knee, this one much faster, more confident. A fourth tentacle draped itself across her shoulder, its suckers rippling against her skin.

“Hello to you too,” snapped Astrid, irritated with the sense that what had started out as caution had swiftly turned to teasing. 

Skida laughed, strolling around the altar to where Astrid could see her, expression lit with fascination, her notebook in hand but otherwise forgotten. There were tentacles following her, now, hovering just outside the boundary of what Skida would consider acceptable.

Astrid’s annoyed comment was cut off by a tentacle catching her around her waist, the hold just tight enough to make Astrid aware of the pressure as she breathed in. It was followed by more tentacles - most seemed to be for support as she was lifted from the altar, but some seemed to be for nothing but small caresses until she was covered in their slick.

The tentacles raised her arms above her, stretching her out, the tentacles around her thighs pulling her legs apart, opening her for proper exploration. Skida hummed appreciatively at the display, her expression almost hungry, and Astrid felt a wave of heat run through her and settle into her cunt.

As a tentacle cradled her lower back and another crossed her chest, a sucker not quite over one nipple, Astrid realized that she was already being touched by more of the things than she could reasonably keep track of. Her breath hitched - until now she’d never even considered fucking a being with tentacles, but she’d also never thought about the wet slide of them over her skin, the sensation of constraint, the mild pain of sucker shaped bruises criss-crossing her body.

She shut her eyes and let her head fall back as a tentacle _finally_ began to nose along her folds, investigating its way up to her clit. It pressed its suckered side against her, the cool touch making Astrid gasp. It tried to grip against her folds, flipping itself over when it realized its suckers wouldn’t gain any purchase and rubbing the smooth side over her clit.

Astrid arched her back, half in pleasure and half in an attempt to angle herself against it to gain more direct pressure. As if in response, the tentacle’s tip moved down and began to gently part her folds, leaving Astrid to growl and restlessly pull against the tentacles.

“Perhaps it’s a test of patience?” Skida laughed, a wicked smile spreading across her face.

Astrid bared her teeth, fighting to shift herself so that she could follow Skida’s slow walk around her. The tentacles tightened their grip, one coming down to rub its smooth side against her cheek as if to soothe her. Then it slid down her neck to her nearest breast, the combination of its tip circling her nipple and the tentacle between her thighs testing her cunt drawing the first real moan out of her.

It teased, pushing into her by a centimetre and then withdrawing, then again, slightly deeper, its cool touch making Astrid shiver even as she rolled her hips in response. When she was nearly full Astrid groaned deeply, the satisfaction of it allowing her to truly relax into the tentacles’ hold.

The tentacles shifted, adjusting themselves, some tightening and some loosening. The tentacle in her cunt pushed itself in as far as it would go until Astrid was arched and panting. She felt her cunt clench as the tentacle began to pull back, and every single tentacle responded, a ripple of excitement running through the suckers, pinching at her skin.

Astrid gasped, and this time when her cunt clenched it was on purpose, looking for a repeat of the rippling pain. The tentacles immediately obliged, a wave of suckers accompanied by a string of brief constrictions, the tentacle in her cunt beginning to fuck her in earnest, spurred on by Astrid’s moan.

The more time went by the less gentle it was, and Astrid embraced it, her voice high and gasping as the tentacles shifted, the suckers leaving lines of circular bruises across her patterned scars as they gripped, let go, and gripped again.

“You are a sight,” said Skida, her slow walk bringing her back around the altar to Astrid’s front. She looked enthralled, her voice filled with as much admiration as amusement.

Astrid gave her a breathless laugh that trailed into a moan as a sucker found one of her nipples and gripped it. She whimpered as it gently squeezed, her back arching - one of the few major movements left to her, bound by the tentacles as she was. 

One of her hands found a tentacle placed where she could grab hold of it, and she squeezed purely to see what would happen. The tentacles squeezed back, tightening around her limbs, constricting briefly around her ribs and shortening her breath. Her cunt clenched with it and the suckers rippled, leaving bruises on bruises, her panting whine seeming to excite the tentacles further, starting the process anew.

Then she yelped with surprise as the tentacles flipped her, the construct’s grip somehow both loosening and tightening at the same time, the suckers that refused to let go pulling slightly at odd angles. It lifted her higher in the air, stopping when Skida made a noise of satisfaction - the construct was giving her a better view, holding Astrid’s body at eye level so that every bruise, every grip and slide of the tentacles, every push of the tentacle in her cunt could be easily seen.

The idea alone made Astrid groan heavily, her head hanging as a new wave of heat washed through her.

From above and behind a tentacle caressed her lower back, sliding down to rub against her asshole, spreading its slick over the one place on her body not already covered. Astrid briefly tensed as the cool tip prodded at the tight ring of muscle - the first tentacle was replaced by another that was no bigger than a finger, and Astrid laughed. The construct, a creation of and by the _dark side_ , likely the protector of some kind of terrible secret or monstrous power, was being _polite_.

Astrid found herself gasping for air as the tentacle in her cunt continued to fuck her while the smaller tentacle worked itself into her ass. She rolled her hips in time with the relentless undulation of the tentacle in her cunt, briefly struggling against the hold of the construct every time it ghosted a tentacle over her clit, never quite pressing against it.

The tentacle in her ass withdrew, replaced by a slightly larger one almost before it was fully out of her body, and Astrid moaned as it spread her, the feeling of fullness in her cunt already amplified. Then it happened again, the tentacle withdrawing and replaced by another, larger one, each push in even slower than the last, the tentacle in her cunt an unceasing distraction, the tentacles holding her up seeming to grow more excited the more Astrid took.

There came a point where the tentacle in her ass withdrew all the way and wasn’t immediately replaced. Astrid whined a wordless, desperate objection, the suckers on the tentacles that held her rippling and the tentacles themselves shuddering and tightening in anticipatory appreciation of her noises.

The tentacle in her cunt slowed to a stop inside her as a tentacle came down to replace the one just withdrawn from her ass. The push inside was smooth, slow, aching, the exclusive focus of her pleasure, an overwhelming sensation of _impossible_ fullness in combination with the tentacle still pressing into her cunt. It had Astrid on the edge, head hanging and eyes closed, trying not to hold her breath, her noises small and desperate and needy. 

As the widest part of the tentacle’s spade-shaped tip slid through the tight ring of muscle and her ass began to close around the slightly narrower length, Skida let out a small noise of satisfaction - of _approval_ \- and Astrid came hard, her body convulsing in the grip of the tentacles, her ass and cunt clenching rhythmically around the tentacles that filled them before they’d even begun moving, clit untouched.

The construct gave her a moment to breathe, the tentacles inside her still, the ones outside shifting themselves around her limbs and waist, stroking against whatever parts of her weren’t wrapped away. Astrid gasped and shuddered, trying to catch her breath, smiling in a haze as she heard Skida laugh with delight.

The second she smiled the tentacles sprang into action, flipping her over, squeezing her wrists, immediately back to almost frenzied excitement. This time Astrid was expecting it, leaving herself pliant and easily manipulated in the air. 

It held her aloft so that she was facing Skida, the tentacle in her ass shifting gently barely a centimetre in and out, the one in her cunt sliding away, leaving her empty. The tentacles holding her up reorganized themselves, still holding her thighs tight with her legs spread wide, wrapping around her arms, a single large, strong tentacle around her waist. All the others withdrew, stroking her sides and back, a pair of them kneading her heaving breasts but never touching her nipples.

She was on display for Skida, the construct keeping her ass filled but offering up her cunt as if to say _see? I can share_.

Skida, who had taken up residence on the altar, lit by the hover lamps, her patina and glass headdress glittering in the dark. Skida, who was looking at her with red eyes filled with hunger, delicate black veins framing her perfect lashes. Skida, whose outer robes were already undone, the layers underneath slowly parting under her fingers, like she’d been waiting until Astrid could see her before touching herself.

Heat began to reignite in Astrid’s belly as she watched Skida’s robes fall open enough to show a line of sea green skin from navel to neck, her breasts still obscured. Skida reached inside her clothes and began to play with one nipple, her breath catching.

Astrid whined, suddenly reminded of the fact that she’d come despite the fact that her clit was completely neglected, her nipples teased but still unabused. She struggled against the tentacles, trying to get closer to Skida, desperate to be touched by someone who knew exactly what she needed to be satisfied.

The tentacles easily held her fast, their grip like iron, the one in her ass pulling out to the widest point and then staying there. The stretch of it was somehow grounding in its intensity, and the threat of the fullness leaving - her cunt was so _empty_ \- was enough to make her go still, panting shallowly, moaning in relief when the tentacle pushed itself all the way back in.

Skida smirked at Astrid’s struggle as she leaned back on one hand. Her other arm snaked down below her half undone belt and between her legs. The loose travel pants she wore under her robes were thin, and so Skida’s movements, though obscured, were obvious enough - she pressed her fingers against her clit and sighed, her lekku shivering from root to tip.

“Skida,” Astrid whined, managing to find her voice in between her desperate pants.

“Yes?” asked Skida, who, based on what Astrid could see through her clothes and the smile across Skida’s parted lips, was rubbing slow circles against her own clit, teasing between her folds. She was surrounded by a halo of tentacles, all very nearly vibrating with their interest in her.

Under normal circumstances, Astrid would have snarled a retort - Skida knew full well what she wanted. Instead Astrid whimpered as the tentacle in her ass shifted forward and back, reduced to begging for the touch Skida was so willing to give herself. “ _Please -_ ”

Without thinking Astrid had slipped into Basic, and the construct responded with lightning swiftness, seeming to know that she was supposed to be speaking in Sith. A tentacle wrapped itself around her face across her mouth, reaching around her head far enough that the tip suctioned just across the bridge of her nose.

“Unfortunately,” said Skida, responding as though Astrid had managed to finish her sentence, “I suspect that if I touch you, the construct will take that as permission to touch me,” she sighed deeply - she’d probably slid a finger into her cunt. “And I’m not quite certain I’m there.”

Astrid sobbed her frustration against the tentacle covering her mouth, the tentacle in her ass and the ones kneading her breasts desperately _not enough_.

“I’m sure you’ll be taken care of,” Skida dismissed, letting her head fall back, her lekku curling, robes sliding ever so slightly down her shoulders. The movement of her arm under the clothes was still slow and languid, her eyes hooded as she watched Astrid squirm.

Within seconds of being given Skida’s permission, the tentacles were no longer offering Astrid up, shifting back into place across her front and tightening, a tentacle pushing into her wet cunt without fanfare. Another tentacle followed it, this one sliding around her hip from the front to press suckers against her clit as it pushed itself in to join the first. It was like they were competing for her heat, the construct so excited that it was growing clumsy and rough.

Astrid made a noise somewhere between a sob and a moan, her cunt filled so tight that when it tried to clench around the tentacles it had no room to do so. She shuddered in pleasure, the tentacles holding her shivering in response, the suckers rippling - one was directly over her clit, the suction more intense than anything she’d ever experienced.

More tentacles came down to pull at her breasts, responding to her thoughts of how Skida would have treated her nipples, the suckers gripping and twisting. Astrid’s back arched, her moan muffled against the tentacle across her face.

Skida groaned deeply at the sight of her, lazily leaning back on her elbow, her robe opening around her neck far enough that Astrid could just barely see one nipple. Astrid watched as Skida’s hand beneath her clothes gathered speed, her lekku curling at the tips and her face flushed.

The Twi’lek was utterly untouchable, and that only made Astrid want her more, to put her mouth around Skida’s nipple and bite, to leave marks all across her neck with her teeth. The tentacles sensed her want, and lifted her up and over Skida and the altar, lowering her close as if to tease her. It forced Skida to lie fully back on the altar, freeing up the arm she’d been leaning on to play with her nipples, pulling her robe open enough to bare both breasts. 

Astrid watched Skida fuck herself, her forearm tensing against her loosened belt as she fiercely rubbed her clit, getting herself off on the sight of Astrid bound and suspended and spread wide, fucked without rhythm by two tentacles in her cunt and one in her ass.

It was Astrid who came first, primed and sensitive from her first orgasm, her writhing tightly constrained. This time the tentacles weren’t still - they fucked her through it, drawing it out, the tentacle that had suckers against her clit pulsing its grip in time. Astrid’s voice was raw, her panting desperate, her breath hot against the tentacle that crossed her mouth as she drew in air through her nose.

Skida came shortly after, her back arching away from the altar, bringing her chest within centimetres of Astrid’s. Her cry echoed through the cave, and Astrid could feel the tentacles responding viscerally on the edge of her thoughts in the Force. The construct wanted to touch Skida almost as much as she did, wanted to hold the Twi’lek down against the altar and bruise her, fuck her the way it had been fucking Astrid.

Astrid hung in a contented haze above Skida as they both came down, Astrid occasionally twitching and whining at the overstimulation from the tentacles as they continued to writhe in and around her, Skida humming with her eyes closed as her breathing calmed. 

When Skida opened her eyes to look up at Astrid, her expression was a challenge, a smirk on her lips as she brought her fingers out from under her clothes. She held Astrid’s eyes as she tasted herself on her fingers, a knuckle between her teeth as she tongued it.

The sight threw Astrid into wild action, absolutely certain that Skida’s challenge was also an invitation, and Astrid struggled against the tentacles, her determination conquering the overstimulation. Skida was right; if she could only touch her, brush her fingers against her skin, leave smears of the construct’s slick against her cheek, the tentacles would be on her - around her, in her.

Skida laughed at Astrid’s fruitless writhing, her red eyes lit with anticipation, almost glowing with the pleasure she took in seeing Astrid whimper as the tentacles tightened around her in warning after she growled. 

Astrid could feel the construct in the Force, could feel it teasing at the edges of her mind, testing her the way that the first tentacle had tested the readiness of her cunt. Astrid threw herself open, asking the construct - _begging_ it - to give her Skida, so she could give Skida to it.

The dark side roared into her, the construct filling her thoughts, its presence in her mind so intense it almost burned, a sensation that would have been nothing but pain had she not accepted it with wild abandon. Instead it was euphoric, the pleasure the construct took in having her so warm and vulnerable in its grasp crashing over her. 

The tentacles thrashed around her as she groaned long and deep and low, the sound of her own voice distant in her ears. She went entirely limp as the dark side soaked into every fibre of her being, giving herself to it fully, the tentacles constricting and loosening at random instead of sliding in and around her with any kind of rhythm, writhing against her skin, the suckers twisting in a way they hadn’t before. 

It was enough that Astrid almost forgot what she’d asked for, her second, utterly overwhelmed moan interrupted by a sharp gasp as the construct relaxed its grip on her right arm. The construct coaxed the promise she’d made to the forefront of her mind, and her eyes lit up as she realized that Skida was now within reach. The construct responded to her elation with a shiver through the suckers of the tentacles and a rush of pleasure through her mind.

Skida looked surprised as the human reached down - genuinely, utterly surprised - and Astrid moved slower because of it, savouring the unfamiliar expression. For all that Astrid had wanted to bite and bruise her, despite that she was giddy with the knowledge that Skida was going to be held open by the tentacles and filled, Astrid’s touch was a gentle caress, a brush of her fingertips down her cheek until the palm of her hand was sliding across her skin, spreading the construct’s slick from the corner of her lips to just behind her ear cone.

For the briefest of moments the world stilled as they looked at each other, eyes glowing yellow holding eyes shining red. 

Skida smirked, leaned her cheek ever so slightly into Astrid’s hand, and the tentacles were on her.

With Astrid’s task complete, the construct pressed the entire weight of the dark side against her, the power of it screaming in her blood, ringing in her ears. It was a beautiful kind of pain, and Astrid lost track of time as she let her thoughts go. 

She could feel the construct as a companion with her in the Force, allowing it to drag her through the dark side until she could experience what it felt, aware of the way it was desperate to taste the wet heat of her cunt with as many of its tentacles as possible, the way it revelled in the tightness of her ass. 

The two tentacles in her cunt pulled away to allow the others access, the very first tentacle to touch her cunt returning to push halfway inside, rubbing the texture of its suckers forward and back over her clit. It left room inside her for the push and pull of an ever increasing number of tentacles, each one struggling amongst the others to take its brief turn to fuck her before sliding away and being replaced by another.

Astrid began to whimper at the increasingly rough treatment, then sighed instead as the construct soothed away the overstimulation, overwhelmed by its almost tender possessive affection for her. 

Slowly she felt herself adjust to its presence alongside her in the Force, moving with the fickle currents of the dark side until it sang instead of screamed, the discordant harmony in her mind providing as much pleasure as the construct still writhing inside and around her.

Through her daze Astrid heard Skida’s voice, the sound of her moans pitched higher than Astrid was used to. Astrid worked to blink her eyes back into focus, and found that the world was sharper, the colours more vivid, the tableau of Skida spread across the altar below her shared with the construct. 

The Twi’lek’s head was held against the altar by the tentacles that twisted around her lekku and held them against the legs of the platform, her wrists raised above her head and pressed down. Tentacles curled out from under the edges of the slab and suckered to her ribs. It held her legs splayed open, tentacles around her thighs and ankles to keep her in place. The tattered ruins of her robes were spread around her, sleeves still partially intact, tentacles wrapped around her forearms under the fabric.

Skida sucked in a sharp breath as the tentacles squeezed, the suckers pulling at her sensitive lekku from every angle, still in a frenzy over finally having Skida within its grasp. The tips of them were out of Astrid’s sight, but even through her euphoria Astrid knew that they were twisting, knew how she would play with first one and then the other, tonguing each before sucking. 

Astrid whined her want against the tentacle across her mouth, and the Twi’lek gasped and arched like Astrid was there at the tips of her lekku. Astrid almost laughed against the tentacle over her mouth as she realized that the construct was now taking instructions. 

The construct was neglecting Skida’s clit the way that it had initially ignored Astrid’s, and Astrid reached out to the tentacle across her face with her tongue. She found a sucker and teased the tip of her tongue across it, communicating her intent through the Force.

Skida gasped as the construct obeyed, a tentacle imitating the movements of Astrid’s tongue against her clit. Astrid circled the sucker with her tongue, and heard Skida moan, tasted the Twi’lek’s cunt as the construct shared its sensation.

Astrid pressed her tongue to the chosen sucker, and the tentacle over her mouth loosened just enough for her to wrap her mouth around it. Skida gasped as Astrid sucked, a tentacle pushing itself into her wet cunt. Astrid coaxed the construct on, trying to focus on the tentacles in her ass, and watched as Skida’s back arched - the construct had pressed the tip of a tentacle against the other woman, opening up the Twi’lek the way it had opened Astrid.

The frenzy of tentacles inside her, the sight of Skida below her, and the taste of both the tentacle and Skida’s cunt in her mouth had heat building in Astrid’s core. Astrid panted against the tentacle against her lips, struggling to focus as she did her best to continue teasing at the sucker with her teeth and tongue, teaching the construct how to pleasure the woman below her.

Skida’s voice began to rise, her limbs tensing against the tentacles holding her down, her back arched against their pressure. The construct began to apply the movements of Astrid’s tongue to both of their nipples, and Astrid lost focus - there was too much sensation, too much in her cunt, in her ass, across every centimetre of her body, wrapped around her face and neck and chest, tentacles alternately teasing her nipples like they were tongues and gripping down with their suckers.

The tentacles were working Skida with the same enthusiasm they were working Astrid, and Skida froze, silent and stiff, before wailing as she came and her body went limp.

Astrid came within seconds of hearing Skida’s wail, the construct sharing the sensation of Skida’s cunt clenching around its tentacles, the feeling of Skida’s pleasure overwhelming her so that her ears rang when she came, her entire body on fire as it arched, her voice ripping through her throat using every bit of air she had access to. The build of every orgasm that came before made the waves of pleasure bleed into pain, a thing she both writhed against and hoped would never stop, the tentacles in her cunt and ass fucking her without reprieve.

This time the tentacles began to slow, responding to the weakness that flooded Astrid’s limbs. Skida’s voice and the whispering of the dark side blurred in Astrid’s consciousness, both cool and comforting as the construct lowered her into Skida’s arms.

Astrid sighed with relief as the tentacles withdrew from inside her and loosened around her limbs, but whimpered when the construct began to unwrap itself - there was something wrong about the tentacles pulling away while the construct was still in her mind. It was rifling through her thoughts, drawing out information it didn’t already have filed away and pressing knowledge of the dark side back into her as it did so.

Skida had a hand in Astrid’s hair, gently drawing her nails across her scalp, purring admiration and appreciation into Astrid’s ear as the construct finished its work. The haze began to lift and the tentacles unwrapped themselves, some few draping themselves across her shoulders and back. Astrid pressed her face into the crook of Skida’s neck.

“A test of endurance?” asked Skida, her amusement drifting down to Astrid both in her voice and as a ripple in the dark side, fingers drawing circles on Astrid’s lower back. Astrid could feel the aura that followed Skida - her darkness was different from the construct’s darkness.

Astrid shook her head, clearing her throat before speaking. “Ripping down barriers to knowledge,” she murmured. The words came out smoothly, far less accented - the construct had found the theory of the Sith language in her thoughts and made it practical while it absorbed all she knew.

“Interesting,” said Skida, her curiosity piqued at the improvement in Astrid’s pronunciation.

A shiver ran through the Force in response to Skida’s curiosity, and Astrid opened her eyes, focused on the words that covered the altar. Power flickered through them, and Astrid stiffly moved one arm to press her palm against the cool stone. The Force ran through the altar, down into the platform, out into the darkness - the construct wasn’t just the tentacles, but the entire cavern, and the altar was its heart.

“It doesn’t protect anything,” said Astrid, smiling when she felt Skida’s aura prickle with annoyance. “It takes what _you_ protect, and gives what you’ll accept.”

“Accepting the will of the dark side in all its forms,” replied Skida, repeating back Astrid’s suggestion from earlier. “A trade of vulnerability for power.”

Astrid hummed a positive response, drowsily nudging out in the Force to see whether the construct would nudge back. She felt at once larger and smaller than she had before - she was more attuned to the currents of the dark side, the scream-song now a soft purr permanently in the back of her mind, an easily accessed river of power. 

The construct pushed its presence up against hers, a tentacle sneaking up over the edge of the altar to twine itself with her fingers. The same power that flickered through the altar moved through the tentacle, the characters from the stone shimmering just underneath its skin. 

Astrid relaxed as Skida wrapped them both in the ruins of her robes, sighing as she fell asleep, at peace in the darkness of the Force around them.


End file.
